A group of about 19 people came up behind Mark after he introduced himself, and they shot Fane a seemingly unfriendly gaze.
Fane frowned, immediately knowing that there would be trouble the moment he heard they were from the Unbreaking Pavilion.
Fane raised an eyebrow as he sneered, "Are you trying to cause me trouble? Feel free to try, but with just your group, you'll just die on the spot if you try anything."
Mark's expression soured at those words. He had wanted to be cordial with Fane, yet Fane's straightforwardness ruined that. Mark failed to even maintain his smile.
Mark snorted. "This is the entry plaza, and the laws of Prosper City protect it. If you try anything here, you'll be struck by lightning before you can even do anything!"
Fane raised an eyebrow, knowing that was indeed the case. "We'll fight outside, then," said Fane. "All twenty of you can fight me at the same time."
Fane was not worried despite their numbers. They might be from the Unbreaking Pavilion, but they were true and blue alchemists, and to him, they were mere ants.
They were just warriors that were at the early stage of
the innate level, forcibly raised to the late stage by the laws of the world. Even if 20 of them worked together, Fane could easily overwhelm them all.
Mark grew angrier at Fane's tone, so much so that he started to pant as he almost lost his composure.
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